10 questions to ask a man…

May 23, 2017
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  1. are you selfish?
  2. do you think all women are bitches and whores?
  3. are you afraid? (of people, traveling, trying new stuff?)
  4. do you know how to share?
  5. do you know how to laugh?
  6. are you easy to talk to?
  7. are you a good listener?
  8. how do you feel about PDAs?
  9. are you a cheapskate or stingy (see selfish)?
  10. do you know when to just be there?

Bonus question:  are you gullible? (if he doesn’t know what “gullible means”, run!) if you don’t know what “gullible” means, go look it up, dammit!  and stop being gullible!

No dead humans and a Superman…

August 27, 2016
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August 25, 2016:

Going home as usual, not really concerned with my environment, but somewhere mentally always monitoring my surroundings while waiting for the Metrolink train to take me to the building I live in.  Too much time went by and the usually punctual train was not in evidence.

A lone security officer was walking up and down the eastbound platform and I heard a burst of sound from her radio saying something about a person wearing a white t-shirt and blue jeans in the area, not realizing what was about to happen.

Next, the officer is asking us to please move to the opposite platform to catch the eastbound train. As I cross over, I can see further down there’s a human sitting in between the eastbound railroad tracks.

20160825_190603 Before the train appeared, the human moved just to the left outside rail and then we saw the train rolling slowly up the westbound side.20160825_190610

The human saw this also and got up to move into the train’s path, again lying down. When the human moved, it appeared to be a female.


The woman you see on the right began to scream very unkind things about her finding someplace else to go and kill herself so she could go home, undoubtedly out of some misguided reverse psychology, which could have had the exact opposite effect.  I began to pray that the lady would move on her own, having a full understanding of what that kind of despair feels like.

You try to live your life in a way that’s beneficial and unselfish, but the rug gets pulled out from under you in ways you don’t expect; losing a job, a spouse, a child, a parent, a pet, a limb or something or someone you think you can’t possibly live without.

I understand this kind of despair. This kind of loss unfortunately, had the effect of teaching me not to become over-emotionally involved with another human to the point of despair ever again.

You know that old saying: “it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all”.

Only problem with this is you have to recover from that loss and there are those of us out here who may not be able to recover. Hence the lady sitting on the train tracks. For her, it was a cry for help, that maybe someone actually answered.

The picture you don’t see is the man who walked down that eastbound platform and coaxed the despairing woman away from the train’s path. He stood with her and held her as we all boarded the train and moved out of this sad woman’s life.

My wish is that he took care of her and talked to her and helped her to get help and not despair. Not screaming at or belittling her like the woman in the picture did.

No one gets to try to take my life from me like that ever again.

And then, this guy showed up:20160825_192027_resized

Superman actually got on the eastbound Metrolink and chatted up the passengers, even though, like the proverbial Calvary, he was too late to do any good!

But maybe, there’s hope for us yet!

double nickels and a full moon

January 15, 2014
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buttery moon 2014this evening, I watched a bright, butter yellow moon rise slowly over the tree tops while sitting on the train home this evening. I counted myself very fortunate to be able to sit still for 35 minutes and experience the phenomenon of that moon. I’ve seen that moon before, but never quite the way I saw it tonight.

at first I wasn’t sure what it was, it looked like something was on fire, because the top of it was barely seen through the tree-tops and it took 5 minutes to reveal itself  that bright, butter yellow orb that took its’ sweet time to appear in the distance.

i could blink and miss some aspect of that rising moon, so much so that it seemed as if the moon was frog- leaping into the sky should I look away.

i’m glad i got to see that moon rise. i count is a blessing and a privilege that i could sit still long enough to enjoy and appreciate it.

such a simple pleasure in this fast-paced world where everyone seems to be looking down (phone/ipad/laptop/notebook) at something in their laps these days.

i hope to see many more.

55mphfor the uninformed, double nickels means 55, which the age i will be in the spring. to me, this number is just as momentous as age 40 or 50 for that matter. it means that i am 5 years away from being 60 and that much closer to a retirement that i am not prepared for, neither emotionally nor fiscally. i, like many others, unfortunately dropped a lot of money into the stock market, relying solely on this as the way to secure my retirement future. bad idea. two years before i turned 50, half of the money i had saved was gone in the nuclear blast that was the housing market debacle. sucked away into a black hole.

sadly, this did not come to pass. to add insult to injury, two years after i turned 50, i was fired from my job. no severance, no golden parachute, nothing. i then made the mistake of assuming that my skills would put me back into the job market within a couple of months and ran around having some fun. it actually took 18 months and by that time, i had lived through the remaining money from my 401k. so much for the plans of worms and women.

i count myself foolish for believing the lie that the stock market would be the means towards my independence and comfort in my dotage.

i’m still grateful for having seen that moon.

Hans Weiman and Hair Club for Men — Not for the Nappy of Hair!

February 24, 2013

If you are a black woman and have waist length dreadlocks and your hair is thinning in front, as mine is, don’t bother going to Hans Weiman or Hair Club.  They won’t help you if you do not wish to adhere to their standard of beauty, i.e.; chemically straightened hair.

If you don’t have chemically straightened or naturally straight hair, they won’t help you with hair transplants.

They both told me that I would have to cut off my beautiful nappy hair and let them clamp one of their “hair systems” on my head. Neither of them have the capability to working with clients with naturally nappy hair.

All I wanted was to get a transplant to the front of my head from the back and neither of them appear to have that capability even though their TV commercials claim they have doctors on staff who can perform this procedure.

Liars, liars, liars!!

Posted in honesty, race, stress, women

an olympic moment

July 28, 2012
Leave a Comment Really Lolo? You’re in London at the frigging Olympics, on the greatest adventure of your young life and all you can think about is some dick and a having a wedding? Really?! I wish I was in your shoes, a lawfully wedded penis wouldn’t do me a damn bit of good standing out there on the ultimate world stage. Get a grip, girlfriend!!

up to no good

June 18, 2012
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Some people are made of plastic,
You know some people are made of wood.
Some people have hearts of stone,
Some people are up to no good.

Some people are made of lies
To bring you down
And shame your name.

Life is about making choices. Some choices we make are actually good for us, even though at the time we make them, it may not seem like it. Later down the road, we look back and realize even though that certain choice hurt, it may very well have been the catalyst to a better life, a better environment, a better happiness.

My topic is the choices we make when we choose a life mate, best friend, our keeper of secrets, etc.

Think of it this way, if you choose someone because they look good next to you, not because of how they treat you, care for you, or help you when your back is up against the wall, then you’re probably going to get an ass-kicking you deserve from that very person.

If you choose someone because of how they look, that really makes you shallow. The best thing you could ever do for yourself is find out how that person will behave with you when you are sick, broke, unemployed, depressed, or just plain down on your ass. Do they come by and just sit and talk with you, while watching TV? Do they offer to do something nice for you just because? Will they pick up the phone at random and just ask you how you are doing? Think about it this way, if you were out of a job, would they still be there, encouraging you to keep on keeping on?

Oh, it’s all fun and games while every body’s flush and pockets are bulging, we can spend money and lavish gifts with the best of them. But what about when your pockets are empty and you’re barely making it from one paycheck to the next? Is it all of a sudden, you can’t get them on the phone, or, you call them up because you’ve found something free and fun to do on Wednesday afternoon, they’re no where to be found? What about that time you had this great movie you rented for $1 and you invited them over to watch it with some popcorn and Kool-Aid and they told you they were going to a happy hour and then next thing you know, they’re back in your face, regaling you with stories of how fine the bartender was that night (didn’t dawn on them that maybe you’d like to have gone too)?

You know that old saying “looks can be deceiving” is a true statement on the state of human relations in the 21st century. You pick someone because they look good and you wind up with someone who’s more trouble than they’re worth. Narcissistic, selfish, mean-spirited, stingy, inconsiderate—but boy are they CUTE! Bullshit!

So does this mean you’ll date someone because they look good, or has a big penis, or tiny vagina, or “good” hair or blue eyes or hazel eyes or tall or muscular, and treat you like shit?

Or would you take the time to get to know someone, that someone who just might turn out to the best thing for you since sliced bread? Especially when it comes down to how you treat each other? Respecting one another’s opinion, allowing that person to be themselves, warts and all? Seeking constantly to find things you can share with each other? Finding out what makes the other person happy and doing that just because you know it makes that person happy? Or better yet, knowing when to shut up and just let them be?

One thing I’ve discovered, when we are young, we want to be right all the time, no matter the consequences. Well I’m here to tell you, knock that shit off! If you are lucky enough to make it out of your forties and you’ve been paying attention, you’ll discover it’s not important to be right all the time. What you start looking for is some mutual respect among your peers, friends and lovers and if you don’t find it, within a certain period of time, then you will move on. It’s not necessary to be right, it is, however, necessary to be treated well, especially when you look back at where you’ve been and what you put up with when your biological clocks were running and your body was following along willingly.

Try it this way, apply these principles at 20, not at 40 and the right person may turn up on your doorstep sooner than you think.

I keeping remembering being a little girl and reading those stupid fairy tales and watching those even dumber romance movies, where boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl in the end (barf time`) and there are thousands of women just like me who grew up with that shit and still believe it to this day! There ain’t no such thing as a happy ending in a fairytale. Women aren’t taught how to stand on their own two feet and be self-sufficient, we all grow up believing some guy is going to come along making 6-figures, buy us a 2-story house, a BMW, give us 2.5 children, put them through college, take a vacation in Europe every other year and then oblige us by dropping dead with the house paid off, the kids out of college and a million dollars in the bank, free and clear.

That’s a lot of burden to put on one human being. Why weren’t we taught to be self-sufficient, put our own money in the bank and buy our own BMW, 2-story house and skip the babies all together? Or better yet, help the man with getting all this stuff?!?!? What’s wrong with sharing the burdens and working toward the goals together???

But baby, I’m for real
I’m as real as real can get

If what you’re looking for
Is real loving
Then what you see
Is what you get!

(If you haven’t heard these song lyrics before, check out a 70s group called “The Dramatics”) on YOUTUBE  OR copy and paste in your browser: (no copyright infringement intended).

Day 14 — Because my parents never found out, I remember getting away with __________ as a teenager:

April 15, 2012
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I don’t really have an answer to this question. My mother was very strict with me. I didn’t turn into a “wild child” until I left home at 17.

the perfect man

April 7, 2012
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and eventually the equipment will fail!

There is no such animal, vegetable or mineral. If there were, I probably wouldn’t be sitting here on my 53rd birthday, writing about this shit. If he did exist, he’d be tall, intelligent, well-read, a mannered Renaissance man with the ability to go from blue jeans to tuxedo in 60 seconds or less No, really, he’d be able to do that and still laugh at a movie like Kung Fu Hustle, and not feel guilty about spending the weekend watching a LOONEY TUNES marathon and eating popcorn.

My expectations are over the top and I’m a little long in the tooth to be hanging on to fairy tales. But then, my adult love life has been this fucking joke where the guy thought I was “just something to do” until his “dream girl” came along. Then without fail, the “dream girl” turned into the Tasmanian devil and back they came, crying about how sorry they were for dumping me. It’s a bad version of “Groundhog Day”. I even once had a girlfriend tell me to “never let a man know how smart you are”. I tried that and my brains oozed out of the sides of my head.

I’m a bit of a geek chick, meaning I have very eclectic tastes and expectations. The men I run into are perfectly dumbfounded when they find out just how much shit, good and bad, I can get into in a few weeks time. I don’t flit, I just don’t like being stale. I plan my trips and then get there and throw away the map and try to get down on the street with the folks who live there. The men I meet want to do all the “touristy” shit that everybody else does.

The perfect man can cook, wash his own damn clothes and keep his house clean. When it comes to his woman, he can listen and hear well, feel her pain and answer questions in complete sentences. Won’t see any benefit to letting his dick lead him around and get him into stupid situations. Wouldn’t see any need to lie about anything and any thing he didn’t want to lie about, he’d keep quiet and not make up absurd stories or tragic scenarios, especially when he really wants to go out and fuck around, either with his boys or his girls. There will be no fear in him and what there is, he wouldn’t be afraid to talk about it because his best friend is the woman who is the keeper of his secrets and watcher of his back when it’s up against the wall.

I stopped the marriage go-round when the second one failed for almost the same reason as the first one. These days, even the long-time partner has gone the way of the dodo, off seeking younger (dumber) pastures. I’m in what’s the last, best quarter of my life and with the machinery starting to shut down and the hair thinning away, I’m ready to lock away the merchandise and go gallivanting around the globe before I get too old to gallivant.

As soon as I get my dream job and move into a new apartment, the crusade to save my impending retirement from epic disaster will begin again. I almost had it stabilized this last time around, then I turned 50 and got shuffled off to Buffalo. But that’s a story for different blog…

Day 06 — My worst cooking disaster involved a turkey, my mother and my (then) husband:

April 6, 2012

For my first thanksgiving dinner, I accidentally left the bag of giblets inside the bird and didn’t discover it until pulling the dressing out of the carcass. I don’t know if that had something to do with it or not, but that was actually the most moist turkey I’ve ever cooked! Go figure!

It’s a shame…

March 8, 2012
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that Black women here in STL haven’t learned yet that they’d be better served if they spent more time helping each other instead of killing or hurting each other trying to get and/or keep a man. So many women here lie, cheat and connive against each other almost to the point of it having the potential to make a great Tyler Perry movie. I see women get pregnant, snoop, antagonize and verbally assassinate someone all in the pursuit of a meal ticket or a bed- or marriage-mate. We need to spend more time being concerned about how we’re being treated and not trying to suck the life and soul out of another human being. We need to spend more time uplifting our own and our sisters’ consciousness so that we can travel the world alone, if need be and be proud of being able to accomplish that goal. Men are wonderful creatures and have their uses, but having a man should not be the way a woman defines herself, nor should having babies, for that matter. STL women need to bring themselves forward into the 21st century by seeking knowledge, parity and independence.

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